Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Grateful

This post mentions: PG

The nursery is painted, the window treatments are up and the rug has been laid. Even the baby clothes we have purchased so far have been hung. This is the first signs in that room that someone new will join us in three months' time and although this reminder is visible and tangible--I can walk in and see it all, feel him kicking against my ribs, after 5 years of waiting, I still can't quite fathom that perhaps my dreams are finally about to come true.

My guess is, a man starved for years on end will have a harder time believing in that steak dinner promised him than a man with an already full belly. In that sense, I have been starving for years and so I still feel out of place preparing for something that feels surreal. I am that starving man, sitting around a table with those well fed and mimicing their movements, placing a napkin in my lap carefully, as if receiving a meal is common place to me. In some ways, it feels absurd. All of the niceties we encounter each day, such as repeating how 'excited' we are, feel so trivial in the shadow of what's really going on for us and especially of what has already gone on for us. Little do most people know the level at which my longing for that ultimate meal resides, especially when it has been handed to them at their request.

I recall when Mr. S. and I were dieting (something we will need to return to shortly and mostly, desperately). We would reward ourselves at the end of the calorie-deprived, gym crawling week with one 'cheat' meal and I will tell you this: food had never tasted so divine. This is the nature of my pregnancy and the eventual arrival of our guy thus far.

Despite the ongoing anxieties and the inner turmoil over being infertile, yet pregnant, and the guilt over leaving others behind, I have been able to cherish most moments of this pregnancy. I might have complained about morning sickness, but I secretly delighted in running to the bathroom, knowing it likely meant he was getting stronger. I have had almost every symptom under the sun: heartburn, constant nose bleeds, increased acne (my personal 'glow'), headaches, sinus problems, gingivitis, fatigue, bloating, (TMI coming, much to Mr. S's chagrin) terrible gas, leg cramps, vericose veins, back pain, sciatica, among many others, and I have honestly LOVED every one of them (but still never gave up the opportunity to feign complaining, of course).

I adore learning his patterns of movements, the way he almost without fail goes nuts kicking a minute or two after I awaken. It's the best 'good morning' I've ever received. I wouldn't trade his little hiccups or his wiggles or his immediate reaction to loud conversation (especially when there's a high pitched female in the room) for anything and Mr. S. and I quite frequently find ourselves standing in Baby G's mostly empty room, just staring. To think, there will be a little person in that room in a few months, a little person we already love so deeply, beyond what I can grasp. I am still in awe. I will always be in awe.

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37, hopelessly infertile, married, and by the skin of my teeth (and gobs of medical intervention), a Mom. I'm spending my days hoping lightening strikes a second time that so I can get my grubby little hands on that last title one more time...